Sometimes Heroes Need Saved
by Darth Tromeros
Summary: Natasha comforts Steve when he wants to disappear from this earth. Trigger warning.


The clock read 1:52 when her phone buzzed. Slowly opening her eyes, she glared at her phone, groaning. She had always had problems going to sleep; the fact that someone was calling her this morning while she was trying to catch up on all the lost hours of slumber made her a bit frustrated.

Her hand hit the side table a few times before she finally landed on her phone. Picking it up, she read "Steve." Pulling herself up so her back was resting against the headboard, she flipped open her phone. "Hello?" she said, her voice tiresome. She wondered why on earth Steve was calling her this late.

"Nat?" His voice seemed to shake.

She seemed to suddenly become wide awake. "Steve, honey, what's wrong?"

"Remember when you said I could tell you anything?"

"Yes," she answered, her heart pounding.

"I need to talk to you." He let out a shuddering breath. "Can you come to my apartment?"

"Right away." She stumbled out of bed, rushing over to her closet. "I'll be over soon as possible," she told him, throwing a pair of pants on.

After throwing on a random outfit and quickly brushing through her hair, she almost ran out the door, hurrying down the steps and to her car. The fact that Steve Rogers was crying made her deathly afraid. Something was not right.

Outside, New York was as alive as anything. Headlights and streetlights almost flooded out the glow from the moon. The stars were not visible underneath the clouds and smog. On normal nights, Natasha would marvel on how loud and fast the city was so late. Who could be out at this time? What were they thinking? What were they going to do? But today, as she drove as fast as the law would let her to Steve's apartment, none of that went through her head. For a brief second, she realized she was one of the people she had always wondered about.

She arrived at his apartment, quickly getting out of the car and up the steps. Knocking on his door, she said, "Steve? It's Nat."

She stood there for a few seconds before the door slowly opened. He was staring at the floor, glancing at her briefly before looking down again. His eyes were red, tear stains on his cheek. "Come in," he told her, his voice cracking.

"Steve," she breathed, shutting the door behind her. She wrapped her arms around him. "Steve, what's wrong?"

Putting his arms around her as well, he answered, "I don't think I can do it anymore."

"You can't do what? Be a hero?"

"I can't go on."

Natasha stiffened, letting Steve go to look up at him. "Steve, you don't mean—"

Steve walked away from her, sitting on the couch. "I'm alone, Natasha," he started, his broad shoulders shaking. "I've tried and tried to get used to it. I've tried telling myself that this is life. But it isn't right. I want to go home and see everyone I love. But I can't. This is the only way."

"Killing yourself isn't going to help you, Steve," Natasha started, sitting next to him and placing her hand on his knee. "It'll make everything worse. It'll affect everyone."

"I know," he said, his voice soft. "But I…."

"How about you talk to me?" Natasha said. "Tell me everything?"

Steve bit his lip, trying to control his sobs. "Before I… became a superhero, all I ever wanted was to be there to help fight for what I thought was right. What I thought needed protected. For what I loved. But I couldn't ever do it. Then one day all my wishes were granted and there I was in the army. Even better, I was a superhero. I was Captain America. I was pretty much the image of America.

"But then I lost my best friend, the only person who stood up for me when I was weak. That was terrible. I hadn't felt anything that painful since my mother had died. But Peggy was there. She helped me. Something about her made me feel better. I was in love with her, Nat." He trailed off, his lip trembling. He wiped his eye. "I _am _in love with her. The last thing I did before I went on that plane was kiss her.

"When the plane was going down, I knew. I knew I would probably never see her again. But I had to choose my country, the one that I was fighting for, the one that I was named after, over a… a crush. In those last moments, we made plans. We were going to go dancing because I had never been dancing. But I never got too. I never will.

"The world now, it's… it's so strange. I can't figure anything out. All the women are nothing like the ones in the forties. I had my life figured out. I was certain of it. But everything's changed. I can't talk to anybody. I can't make friends. I'm so alone. America's forgotten about me. What's the point of going on when nobody's there with you? That's what I figured. It's been on my mind for the past few months. But I had to keep going, keep fighting, but now it's all too much. Everybody I've ever loved is dead. Everything I wanted has been destroyed. I might as well go with them. That's where I belong."

Natasha sat silently for a few moments, staring at the floor. "Steve, I don't know where to begin."

Steve shook again, holding his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do Natasha."

"Steve, let me tell you something. There was a time I regretted everything I ever did. I wanted to disappear too. I wanted to go away because I felt that I deserved it. But I got through it, and now I'm going to help you."

He glanced up for a moment and saw her give him a sad smile. "How?" he whispered.

"First off, you have people who love you. A lot of people love you. Your country loves you for helping save them. I love you. Steve, I love you a whole lot. You're an amazing person. I've told you everything."

"Not everything. I didn't know about you wanting to go away." Steve was staring straight into her eyes, a stray tear on his chin.

"But I was going too." She moved her hand from his lap and held one of his hands between hers. "I know this might be a little… too assuming, but I know you Steve. You wouldn't stop fighting for America. You might feel terrible now, but if someone needed help, you would put yourself to the side and save them first."

"How do you know?" he snapped.

"Because you're Captain America. They don't just give superpowers to anyone. They gave it to you because you want to save people. You're not self-absorbed like Tony. You're not an accident like Bruce. You're not just born with it like Thor. You were chosen. People thought you would make a great hero. And you are, Steve. I've seen a lot of people fight. I've seen a lot of 'heroes'. But you, by far are the greatest."

"How do I know you're not just saying that?" he asked her softly.

"I'm your friend, Steve. You should know I'm not just saying this. I've told you my secrets, you're telling me yours. Why on earth would I make something up to make you feel better?"

He stayed silent, wiping his eyes again. His elbows rested on his knees, his back hunched over.

"You know what's funny?" Natasha started. "You'll save everybody but yourself. When it comes to the world, you're right beside it, guarding it. But when it comes to yourself, you don't even try. Why is that Steve?"

Steve didn't say anything. He stared tightlipped down at his lap. "I'm Captain America," he said. "I don't need fending for. I'm strong."

"You're still human, though," Natasha pointed out. "You're not some indestructible robot. No matter how hard someone pretends, you'll always feel something. Trust me, I would know."

"I do," Steve said.

"Steve, I want you too know you're not alone. I'm right here. I'll be rooting you on. I'll be here when you can't go on any longer. I hate it that you feel like nobody's here for you. I am, Steve. I'm here. You're not alone. Steve, we're all here for you."

Another tear trickled down his face. He didn't say anything.

"Here," Natasha said, standing up. She held her hand out. He glanced up and saw it, looking up at her. "Take it," she told him. He placed his hand in hers, and she pulled him on his feet. "Now put your hand on my waist," she instructed. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Take a step forward with your right foot."

Glancing down, he stepped forward. "Don't look at your feet," Natasha told him. "Now step to the right starting with your right foot than your left."

He followed her instructions. She gave him a few more, and slowly and ruggedly they were dancing. After time, he grew faster, sometimes stumbling. They would laugh together as he tripped. Soon they were waltzing around his apartment, smiling widely and spinning around. Steve hummed different tunes, from slow tunes like "Moonlight Serenade" to faster tunes. It seemed as if a band were playing in the background. He went from humming to singing softly to himself. Natasha found herself craving his voice, never wanting to break away from his soft gray eyes.

As Steve started singing a slow song, they slowed down with it, twirling unhurriedly. Natasha closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder as he sang the lovely melody in her ear. They had almost completely stopped moving now, just swaying back and forth now. As the song came to an end, Natasha lifted her head up, locking her eyes on his. Her breathing grew jagged as she studied his face: his broad jaw line, his affectionate smoky eyes, how his thin lips curved into a smile….

Suddenly the space between them closed, his lips finding their way to hers. She moved her hands so they were resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around her back. She suddenly wondered how terrible she must look; no makeup, her hair barely brushed, how mismatched her outfit must be, but at the same time, she knew it didn't matter. This was Steve. Steve loved her for who she was, not what she looked like. Steve didn't care about material things; he loved what was inside of her.

She did too.

Slowly, he backed away, staring into her eyes for a few seconds before blushing. "I'm—I'm sorry," he told her. "I was caught up in the moment and I—"

Her lips were on his again, pulling away after a few seconds. "It's okay," she told him, smiling.

"Thanks, Natasha," he told her. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"I would do anything for you," she told him. She glanced over at the clock. It now read 3:36.

"Oh my, it's late!" Steve exclaimed. "I'm so sorry you had to get up."

"I'm not," she told him. "I'm glad I got to come here."

Steve smiled. "I am too."

She bent forward and kissed his cheek. "I guess I'll go sleep now," she said, heading towards the door.

"Hey, Natasha?" he called as she opened the door.

She turned around. "What?"

"This will just be between us, right?" he asked.

She grinned again. "Of course," she told him.

Smiling one last time, he waved. "Thanks for being a great friend," he told her.

"You too," was the last thing she said as she shut the door.

Steve let out a happy sigh before sitting down on his couch. Suddenly the world didn't seem so empty anymore.


End file.
